One of these days
by Twinkie D
Summary: Harry angsts over Sirius. Spoilers for OotP.


Warnings: Bad Twinkie-style wannabe angst. NO slash, sorry all Sirius/Harry, Remus/Harry fans. I don't (can't) do S/H or R/H *shrug*.   
  
Spoilers: Dunno, really. Maybe all the books, but mostly OoP.  
  
Disclaimer: Yeah, right. Here I am, rolling around in money and wealth. If *I* owned the Potters, you can be sure they'd be much more screwed up. Nothing for little children...  
  
And slashy goodness in all around... Bucket loads of that... Mwahahahhahahhaa! *krhm*  
  
One of these days...  
  
By Twinkie  
  
Harry lay in his bed in Privet Drive, staring up at the ceiling. It was hot, sunny Wednesday in the middle of July, but Harry couldn't have cared less. He didn't want to go out, and feel the warmth.  
  
Harry couldn't stop thinking about him. The face of his Godfather; happy, angry, hurt, surprised...  
  
Especially the surprised look in his face had been etched to Harry's memory so well it was like a photo.   
  
Sirius being hit by the curse, eyes growing large, stumbling out of sight, the veil still waving gently after him, as if moved by invisible breeze. The whispers...  
  
He glanced at the mirror Sirius had given him as they had said good-byes before he had left to school after the Christmas.  
  
The glass was still broken, he hadn't bothered to repair it. What was the use?  
  
At Aunt Petunia's call he dragged himself up and moved to the door.  
  
The talk his two former professors (Harry still did think Mad-Eye Moody as one of them), Tonks, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had had with the Dursley's seemed have helped the matters a little bit between him and has "family". He still had to do most of the chores, like cleaning and cooking, but he found he didn't care. The tasks let his mind wander free, while giving his hands something to do.   
  
Other than the chores, the Dursleys left him alone, even Dudley, for most of the time.   
  
Aunt Petunia gave him the instructions considering the meal of the day, then hurried off to the living room to watch her favorite soap opera.  
  
Mechanically Harry started preparing the food.   
  
Sirius had meant, still did, so much to him. So many years Harry had wished for a real home, a place he would be glad to go back every summer after school had ended.   
  
Sirius had promised him that place.   
  
Harry had imagined that place so many times it was like real to him; beautiful little house from the land, maybe Lupin would live with them too. Well kept garden full of pretty-looking and good-smelling flowers and vegetables, lots room to play Quidditch. Ron and Hermione would come to visit, sometimes bringing Ginny, Fred and George with them. They would play, Remus and Sirius sometimes maybe participating...  
  
Harry snapped awake from his daydream. He sounded like a frigging girl! Flowerbeds, sun, love, happiness... All that was still missing was the Prince Charming, dressed in an armor, with a sword on his side! How utterly ridiculous!  
  
He sighed, and began chopping the onions, salty tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. His eyes itched. He hated onions.  
  
The sudden rattling of the kitchen cabinets told him Dudley had found him.   
  
"Poor Potty, our little housemaid. Don't you cry Potty, makes you look ugly", Dudley smirked, or at least Harry thought that was what he was trying to do. It was hard to tell, with all that fat in his face and all...  
  
"Shut up Dudley, and leave me alone, or I'll poison your food. You can spend the night throwing up for all I care."  
  
Dudley shrugged, unexpectedly, and turned to go. Harry had been sure he'd run to his mother, wailing how Harry was trying to kill him, once again.   
  
Oh, well, he thought, guess the surprises never cease.  
  
Obviously, they didn't, as Harry was proved the second time in such a short notice. Dudley stopped in the doorway, turning back to him.  
  
"Why do you always come back? Why won't those people take you with them? "  
  
Harry was sure the surprise in his face was obvious for everyone to see. What had Dudley eaten? Some sort of poisonous berries? Or maybe he himself had unconsciously poisoned his food, like he'd threatened. He couldn't help but admit this wasn't the first time the thought had crossed his mind.   
  
Maybe it was the same thing as with his hair when he'd been younger? Some unconscious magic, perhaps?  
  
He realized Dudley was still waiting for an answer. Harry sighed and closed his eyes.  
  
"You are my family, and as long as I'm here with you, Voldemort cannot touch me. The blood that your mother and mine shared protects me from him."  
  
Dudley blinked. He probably didn't understand, but Harry didn't even expect him to.   
  
"But didn't you have that godfather of yours, the murderer?"  
  
Harry gasped, he couldn't help it. He closed his eyes briefly.  
  
Sirius...  
  
Eyes opening again, he turned to the onions and chopped with passion.   
  
"Sirius, my godfather... He is dead."  
  
Dudley didn't say anything, and Harry was glad as he left.   
  
He didn't understand why his whale of a cousin hadn't bothered to agonize him with the matter, but was thankful altogether.   
  
He wasn't sure what he would have done.   
  
Suddenly the slight confusion and gratitude he felt turned to anger.  
  
Why had he told Dudley? Maybe he wouldn't tease him today, or tomorrow, but someday he would. Why did let himself open like this?  
  
Then the anger drained away, and exhaustion took place.   
  
He was so tired to this.   
  
Why couldn't he just sleep past this, past all these painful memories and thoughts that welled inside of him?   
  
"Ouch..."  
  
This was really all he needed right now.   
  
He raised his cut finger to his face, watching the thick, dark red blood flow.   
  
Like the night when Voldemort had came back.  
  
He sighed, once again, moving to wash the blood from his hand in the sink.   
  
How many more things would there be to make him feel guilty?   
  
His parents' death, that was his fault, in some way. Voldemort had killed them because of him, hadn't he?   
  
The comeback of Voldemort's was as well his fault. If he had been quicker, better fighter...  
  
And Cedric. Without him Cedric wouldn't be dead.  
  
Yet another sigh escaped him.   
  
He leaned his head against the counter, his eyes falling shut in their own volition.  
  
Why did he have to loose the first and only adult he had ever loved? Why had he been so stupid? Harry should have contacted Snape right away, he should have-  
  
Harry slipped to the floor, not caring if Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon or Dudley walked in.   
  
These things always happened to him. When would he get his peace? Did he have to die to get it?  
  
He often found himself hoping he's died alongside with Sirius. They could be together, where ever his godfather was at the present moment.   
  
Maybe Sirius was with his parents right now...  
  
"What are you doing boy? Get up, this is no place to sleep!" Aunt Petunia's shrilly voice broke through his thoughts. He didn't look up.  
  
It was so strange that his aunt and mother could have been related at all. They were so different. His mother was an opposite of the woman he called his aunt: beautiful, brave, loving...  
  
'She loved me enough to give me protection and die for me...'  
  
Bony hand grabbed his elbow trying to haul him to his feet, and another one found his cheek with enough force to throw his head back.  
  
Harry was distinctly aware of her voice screaming something or another to his ear, her hands grabbing his shoulders and giving him a brutal shake, but he didn't care.   
  
Oh, why should he? It was easier not to...  
  
The change of bony hands to a gentle, firm grip made him break from the haze.  
  
He raised his eyes to meet the ones of concerned Remus Lupin, who was kneeling by his side. His uncle was yelling somewhere behind him, and Harry thought he heard Professor Moody answer in kind.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
His once more focused on Lupin's face. "Yes, Professor?"  
  
"Are you alright?" The tone was calming, gentle, washing over him like a wave of love and caring.  
  
Harry blinked: "I don't know."  
  
A sigh escaped Lupin, and he pulled Harry to his chest, arms circling his shoulders.   
  
"We should have come earlier. We shouldn't have left you along for this long. I'm sorry."  
  
Harry leaned into the embrace, his own arms finding their place in Lupin's back and gripping handfuls of his robes.  
  
He knew it wasn't very manly, to act like this, seeking safety from his father's best friend's arms like a little child, but he really didn't care right at the moment.  
  
He needed this, needed like he needed air. Probably Lupin knew this or guessed, because he didn't let go, just let Harry rest there, both of them kneeling in the cold hard floor.   
  
Harry listened to the strong beat of the werewolf's heart, and before long had fallen asleep in that uncomfortable position.   
  
///////////   
  
When he woke up next time, it was at dusk and in his own bed.   
  
Lupin smiled at him from where he was sitting at the end of his bed, then scooted closer gracefully.   
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
Harry gave him a small smile in answer. " I guess I'm fine. Thank you."  
  
Lupin shook his head sadly. "I don't think you are fine, Harry, and I am very sorry for leaving you all alone like this. Especially now. This is hard time for both of us, and I think it would be wisest for us to get through this together."  
  
Harry gulped. He wasn't so sure himself... He didn't want Lupin to think him as weak. He didn't want to let anyone think he couldn't handle this.  
  
Lupin's eyes still looked sad and he reached out to push few strands of hair from his face.   
  
"Don't, Harry, please don't do this. Let me help you to get through this. It's not healthy for you to build those walls around you. You are still a child! Please..."  
  
At the last word his voice cracked, and Lupin raised his other hand to his face.   
  
"This is not easy for me either, to have him back after twelve years only to loose him again."   
  
Harry moved his upper body so that his head was laying in Lupin's lap, and older man's hands found their way to Harry's unruly locks.   
  
"It's not fair", Harry said, swallowing the hot tears that threatened break loose. "It's just not fair."  
  
"I know", came the whispered answer.  
  
Harry closed his eyes tightly, willing the tears not to come, but still, they slipped past his lids, burning as they made their way down his cheeks and neck.   
  
"I really miss him. I miss him..."  
  
The hands in his hair were soothing. "I miss him too. "  
  
////////////////  
  
The next morning Harry packed his school trunk and followed Lupin out to the small car waiting for them without a backward glance.  
  
He knew he still would have to come back this summer , but he had four weeks to spend with Lupin.  
  
They had talked last night, and Lupin -'Remus', Harry reminded himself- had told him of Dumbledore's decision to let him stay with him for a while, "to heal" as Lu-, Remus had put it.  
  
Harry was grateful.  
  
Remus told him Dumbledore was worried about his way of bottling everything inside until it had no other way to come out but to break through.   
  
Harry wasn't sure what had made him snap the previous day, but Remus just said it was bound to happen sooner or later.  
  
"And now we can start the healing process. It will take time, as it always does, but believe me, we'll get through this together, Harry." The werewolf had said the night previously.  
  
And Harry believed him.   
  
//////////////////  
  
Uhm... *dodges the rotten tomatoes thrown at her* My very first HP fic, and it didn't even have slash in it! (Wow...)  
  
I'm sorry if Harry seems awfully whiny and girly, I really can't obviously write anything even remotely reminding angst... -_-;;; And, on top of that, the mysterious feelings of men are totally out of my pen's reach. *shrug*  
  
Still, I'd be very grateful if you were so kind and send me feedback. *big, watery eyes* Please? Help me improve my angst writing skills!  
  
Thank you. 


End file.
